


Parts and Pieces

by Figureitoutbruh



Category: JeanMarco - Fandom, Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan, dark!marco - Fandom
Genre: Amputee, Angst, Dark!Marco, Depression, M/M, Mental Illness, Robotics, Science, Veterans, Yaoi, jeanmarco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-03-25
Packaged: 2018-03-17 22:11:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3545591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Figureitoutbruh/pseuds/Figureitoutbruh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean is an engineer who has began working on prosthetic limbs for veterans and soon decides on the very broken Marco Bodt to test his new design... but can wounds this deep be fixed?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone!  
> Hope you guys enjoy this first chapter. Warnings for angst, suicidal thoughts and actions mentioned, homoerotic tension and a cat army.  
> Feel free to check out my [tumblr](http://figureitoutbruh.tumblr.com/)! I post writing updates and all that jazz on there.

Jean was pretty stoked to be alive today. The spikey haired MIT graduate had gotten a pretty high paying job as a civil engineer for the federal government, specializing in clean energy design. That was however, not the highlight of his week. It was today, walking to the hospital. Okay, don’t think he’s crazy just because he’s walking into the huge building with a smile. He’s not one of those weird people who like hospitals. Hell, he’s not even on the way to see a relative who had gotten great diagnoses. Jean was one fraction of a team of people who were bringing affordable prosthetics to veterans and children.

His friend Eren was an oncologist, hell bent on eradicating cancer and had hooked him up with Levi. Levi was a veteran himself and E.R doctor, he had been curious about using three dimensional printers to bring quality limbs to those in need. Armin and Jean had been in the top ten at MIT and they had worked as a team on three limbs, the first of which would be delivered today and fitted by Jean himself! It was going to be pretty damn awesome to see this multi-person project come to fruition. Armin was working and both Eren and Levi were on duty so Jean had a camera and tripod in his bag to film the fitting for the rest of them. Maybe they could put it on YouTube and get it to go viral or something.

The average limb for an adult was upwards of eight grand. This one packed in a box under Jean’s arm was only six hundred dollars to make. That was a pretty massive difference. Of course the health care industry is messed up and already he had received threats from medical companies about copyright law and patent infringement. So to avoid the charges Armin and him had to completely reinvent the way prosthetics were done. That meant using a different system of mechanized pressure switches that moved the joints. It was a throwback to the days of music boxes and pianos really. The remaining segments of the limb put pressure on different panels along the inner arm which activated a pressure system similar to a see-saw. Today would be the first test of the system.

The hospital smelled like cleaner and some underlying scent that made Jean loose some of the pep in his step. He’d led a relatively trauma free life. His parents were both still alive and so far, the only funeral he had to ever attend was his grandfathers. The bright white walls and harsh lights had no reason to make his skin crawl like they did. Maybe he was just freaked out by the fact he knew at any given moment someone in this building was dying. He gave a slight shiver as he boarded the elevator. They were meeting in one of Eren’s exam rooms. Which was a good neutral place and Eren could peek in real quick without missing much work. Jean was most nervous about how emotional this would be. He didn’t handle the whole Oprah style crying and hugging scene well. Sighing a bit as he figured that part couldn’t be helped Jean rocked on his heels as the elevator rose. In no time he was down a familiar set of halls.

That’s when he went to the desk at Eren’s office and found that indeed mister Marco Bodt had not shown up for his appointment. Jean felt confusion lick at the inside of his skull as his body deflated a little bit. Why would someone not show up for this? This was awesome! He slid his hand into his face as he leaned on the counter. The nurse insisted on paging ‘Dr. Jaeger’. It was still weird seeing Eren in uniform and getting so much respect. He was still in residency but that didn’t stop lowered eyes and overly done uses of ‘Sir’. That heart shaped face and those aquamarine eyes didn’t help any. Eren was a little shit, and totally not Jean’s type, but he could see the appeal that his passion laden personality held. I mean, they were close friends weren’t they? That had to say something about them respecting each other.

Soon the messy mop of chocolate hair appeared and he sighed as he beat himself with a file on the side of his head. “Why did you do this one first?” He asked rolling his eyes as he leaned on the counter beside Jean.

“Because he applied for two limbs I figured he’d have the most need.” Jean said as be blinked, not really understanding the reasons for Eren’s frustration. Eren flipped open the chart and looked it over. How did Eren have the chart anyway? He treated cancer patients!

“Military Police, blown up by an IED in-“Eren frowned, “Some place I can’t pronounce. Lone survivor of his convoy. Missing his right eye, arm and leg. Has attempted suicide five times since his return. His sixteen year old sister reached out to the program.” Jean frowned a bit as he spoke and thought about how he would feel not able to walk, move on his own and being half blind. His heart sank like a stone into some oceanic abyss as he swallowed hard. Jean looked back to Eren, not aware his fists were clenched at his sides and a look Eren recognized slid over the boys long faced features.

Eren knew mindless determination when he saw it. And the truth was, he treated Mrs. Bodt until she lost her battle with thyroid cancer. He rarely attended funerals, but this one had gotten to him. Seeing that dark haired boy with a black suit and matching black eye patch had sunk in the fact that some families loose too much. He could also see the dark braided pigtails of Mina as she pushed her older brother who was nearly lifeless himself. Marcia Bodt was a widow with an insanely positive attitude. She never felt sorry for herself or complained even when she was wrecked by chemo and being cared for by her daughter and the news of her sons unit being nearly wiped out hit her. She was so damn strong. So much like his Eren’s own mother…

He inhaled and held the breath as Jean stared into space. “Go take lunch Carolyn.” He said to the nurse who nodded and got up, waving flirtatiously and saying a way too long of thank you. “Look. HIPPA law says I can’t give you Bodt’s address. But I might walk off and leave this file unattended for approximately thirty seconds. Don’t get me in trouble Horse Face.” He said tapping Jean’s nose with the folder as he tossed it onto the nurses station and walked off with his hands in his power blue scrubs. Jean looked to the manila folder and pulled out his phone as he opened it and snapped pictures of the info written down and looked around painfully obvious as someone who was into some shenanigans as he turned foot with a squeak of converse on tile and walked off.

It started to rain lightly as he waited for the subway to come. At least he was underground, right? He zoomed in on his phone and tried to make out the information. It was pretty useless. All he could scavenge was what Eren already told him. He had indeed heard of the apartments Hillshade Estates. And the added word ‘Estates’ did not make it fancy. Jean’s old YMCA he attended was on that block and those buildings were known for stray animals, crack heads and hookers. He held the box a little tighter under his arm and made sure his backpack was on snugly as he boarded the train.

The lights they passed made a pattern of light on the floor as the train slid through the catacombs of the city. Eren’s words kept ringing, over and over in Jean’s mind. This guy had tried to die five times…. Jean couldn’t even imagine wanting to die. Shouldn’t he be grateful he lived? Obviously people had been grateful when he came home. Didn’t that mean anything? How could he hurt everyone so much? The train lurched to a stop and Jean caught sight of himself in the window. He was in a letterman’s jacket from his hockey days and tight jeans. A grey beanie shielded most of his hair from the rain that was now falling. He got off, walking past his reflection as he second guessed himself about this whole thing.

Walking up the stairs and down the street a few feet as Hillshade loomed in the distance like a puke green dystopian sky scraper he thought about how scared and fragile this guy must be. Jean opened the door to a small lobby with a station of mail boxes and strangely enough three litter boxes. It made the place instantly smell of ammonia and piss. There was a puddle leaking across the floor he stepped over as he reached the rather creaky stairs and headed up.

Creaking, groaning and TV static filled his hears as he went up the first floor. He passed a bike locked to the bannister with a strange look on his face. On the second floor he heard fighting and glass breaking. He felt like he was walking into the woods at night. This darkness slipped around him as he silently thanked his parents for a life in the suburbs. Finally standing before him in yellow chipped paint was a door with a gilded 32D on it. He brought up his hand and knocked.

Nothing.

The dripping continued and all the sudden a pull at his pants made his head snap down and he saw a black cat rubbing its face on him. He made a soft sound of the cute of the animal overpowering him and bent down, scratching its head lightly. Looking up he knocked again to be met by more silence. Two things happened at once.

A train of four cats in assorted colors came up the stairs as if they owned the place and a growl of “Fuck off. She’s not home!” came from behind the door. Jean felt caught off guard by the deep voice and slightly unnerved by how organized these cats were acting. That’s when the black one laid its paws on the door and scratched with a pained pouting meow. The others, as if summoned by some cat magic or maybe simply demanded by their leader, joined in and the fact the bottom quarter of the door didn’t have any paint was addressed and explained all at once.

That’s when the door opened and the cat army began to slide through the open space. Jean looked and leaned forward as he took in one of the most appealing faces he had ever seen. Shaggy dark hair and a wide face with a strong jaw and tan complexion that was peppered with freckles and plump lips met his eyes. He saw a hazel eye lock with his own through the space of the open door and a look of mistrust and skepticism crossed his face. “What do you want?” He asked and Jean had to blink and bring himself back to reality.

“I- err.” He said as he shifted his weight and cleared his throat. “I’m Jean… I was supposed to fit you for your new arm today.” He said with a smile. Jean didn’t know what he was expecting but a dry chuckle escaped Marco's mouth as he disappeared into the dark. Jean thought for sure the door was about to close on him. But it was left slightly open. Marco didn’t shut him out but he wasn’t inviting him in either. Little did Jean know that would be the way things were going to go in more ways than one. Jean took the first step and pushed the door open as he peered in.

Okay, so maybe he was expecting total squalor and nastiness. This place was small, a kitchen with an eat in bar and a small living room was all he could see, but it was neat and well kempt. It smelled of fur and cheap air freshener but that in and of itself wasn’t unpleasant. He saw Marco sitting there in a wheel chair. It was motorized, like a hover round and the control stick was on the left side. Jean was trying not to stare, but he couldn’t help it.

Shaggy thick hair the color of ink hung down around a black eye patch. Where jeans and a The Smiths shirt should have been filled out they felt flat and unnaturally limp. Still, without the shoulder, Jean could tell Marco had been wide and muscular. The tan of his skin seemed just a shade paler than it was meant to be. So did the lingering curves of what was once a glorious body. Jean looked at his remaining arm as it pressed the joystick, turning the chair. He saw deep scars running like rivers up and down the man’s wrist and up his arm. “Most people are done gawking by now.” Marco said with an eat shit and die tone.

Jean once again called himself back to reality and was faced with a very sour host in front of him. Marco was… intimidating. Maybe it was just because Jean had no idea how to talk to him. Did he baby him? Was he to be gentle or just treat him like everyone else? Wasn’t that what those disabled people want? Jean caught himself mentally gag at his own inner voice calling Marco ‘those people’. What was he, a fox new anchor? He simply extended his own hand for Marco to shake and said “I’m Jean…” He smiled his toothy grin and let his determination show on his face. “And were gonna get you taken care of.”

That determination deflated as soon as Marco laughed sarcastically. “Oh are we?” He asked with a smoky tone to his voice that Jean didn’t know how to handle. “Fix me right up, huh?” He said and Jean saw darkness creep into his eye. It narrowed and Marco looked pretty pissed. You know someone is intimidating when they can scare you with two limbs missing and a lap full of cats. “I don’t need your pity or your charity.”

Jean felt those thoughts from the train return. Did this guy not know how many hundreds of hours he and Armin had poured into this arm? How many families would be so happy to see their loved ones come home in a chair instead of a bag? Marco’s hand pressed on the joystick and Jean laid his own on top of it, locking it in place. “Listen here Bodt.” He said as his own eyes narrowed. Marco’s eye widened in surprise before narrowing in some macho anger that wasn’t entirely misplaced as he waited for a response.

“I didn’t work with three other people for eight months, fight with lawyers, take a vacation day, get stood up and have to take a train across town-“ He leaned a little closer. “Out of pity.” He felt Marco’s hand go a little limp, loosening his grip on the control stick. “This is a prototype. If it works for you it could be applied to hundreds. You have a role to play and we get to try to win you back some mobility in the process. This isn’t charity. It will be work for you too.” Jean saw Marco look down. “Hours of relearning every single thing you knew how to do. Now are you going to sit there and be a jerk about this or can we get this whole thing started?”

Jean was direct, cold and overly honest….looking back maybe Armin was the better one to do fittings. Jean thought for sure that he would get screamed at or maybe even have a legion of cats set upon him but as silence slid over the room he saw Marco sigh as he turned his chair with a curt “Fine. This way.”

Jean was left a little awestruck as he watched Marco turn and navigate his way over to the couch. Jean followed noticing while everything was pretty shabby there were nice touches. The couch had holes, but throw pillows. The table was scratched and dented but the floral arrangement on it was delicate orchids. Jean looked over to Marco who was now watching him carefully. “I like orchids.” He said softly as he set his bag down, gesturing to the table. The last thing he wanted to do was judge Marco. He couldn’t fathom what the guy had been through.

And he was right to speak like that, giving a compliment. Marco was eyeing him for judgement. Jean looked up as he rubbed his hands together, noticing a six pack of beer beside the arm chair. Of course the guy had to cope somehow. “So…” He said as he looked over to Marco. “Can I film this for the rest of the team?” He asked and Marco shrugged absently. In a few moments Jean was all set up with his Nikon pointed at them as he clicked it on.

“Hi. This is Jean Kirstein with Marco Bodt for the initial prosthetic fitting for this…thing were doing.” He hear Marco laugh and noticed it wasn’t a fake or dark laugh but it kind of sounded like a kid. He turned with a grin “Got something to say Bodt?” he asked and Marco shook his head as he snickered.

“You don’t have a name for the operation yet?” Jean’s eyebrows furrowed at Marco’s words. He rolled his eyes and kind of forgot the camera was on as he leaned back and kicked at his chair a bit. Marco jerked a tad and then looked over with soft eyes. Jean didn’t know it, but picking at Marco made him feel like an equal.

“How about operation Make Marco Happy, you grumpy old cat lady...” Was Jean’s reply and he turned back around to the camera as he spoke about the model number and some other science related stuff. The camera however, would catch the way Marco smiled into the back of Jeans head. Within minutes the silver and white plastic and metal thing was laying on the table as Jean pointed and explained.

“This is the arm. It’s attached with this harness…” He said holding the Iron Man looking thing up. On what would go under his left arm he saw two switches. Jean pointed “These open and close the hand… I know it’s not much.” He said as he looked up and shrugged. “But once we explore the basic mechanics we can expand on them. You press with your arm pit foreword to close, backwards to open. Simple right?”

Marco felt… under whelmed. “Isn’t this like supposed to be advanced robotics?” Marco asked and Jean raised an eyebrow as the arm hung as limp as his own deflated ego.

“Well Marco turns out the people who made the robotics own them and we would have to pay money to use the designs.” He said as he laid the hand in his own lap. “Sorry we don’t have more at the moment. It’s going to be trial and error at first…” Jean felt a bit of shame and guilt wash over him. Could he have spent more time on this and presented a better design? It was just not hitting him it wasn’t some record, design or theory they were working with… but people. Marco needed this and Jean felt like maybe he could go back to the drawing board and bring something a bit better in next time.

A sigh from Marco as he reached down across his body and pulled his shirt up and over his arm to toss it on the couch drew Jean out of his thoughts. Shockingly the first thing he saw was Marco’s left side. Wide, muscular shoulders with curves and sloped and a gorgeously pronounced collar bone that dove across a thick barrel chest… and met a scar the size of his whole damn body. It looked like spider legs wove across his figure. Marco stared at him for a second longer than was normal before looking away, shifting Jean to his blind side. “Well try and error me, Science guy…”

Jean felt this unease creep over him. It was like walking over land mines. What was safe? Was any of this okay? It was like some sick joke. Marco seemed so hateful and dark one second, then was joking right back. He was fucking beautiful yet bitter enough to instinctively make Jean want to turn tail and run. “R-right. Let’s strap you in for a test drive…” He said as he leaned over Marco. Man, this dude was covered in freckles. He placed the arm over the cavern that had been his shoulder. They would need to probably mold this and vacuum form around it. He slid the belts over as Marco lifted his left arm. The smell of old spice hit Jeans nose as he took in the display of freckles over ribs and the kind of surprising fact that Marco had a happy trail and hair under his arms yet none on his chest. Jean felt the heat from Marco’s chest on his face as he fed the straps through loops. At least, he hoped that’s why his face was warm. Finally he pulled back and Marco set his left arm down and put pressure on the switches. The hand jerked up quickly to be at a ninety degree angle and closed. Jean put his hand to his lips and spoke to the camera. “Add hydraulics for built in breaking and safety.”

Marco looked up with a raised eyebrow as the back cat dove from the couch into his lap and sniffed at the white hand. He smirked and looked over to Jean. “Sam approves.” He said and Jean reached down, petting the cat as he looked up through his lashes at Marco.

“He’s got good taste…” He said and then folded his arms as he glanced from Marco to the cat. “Pick it up.” He said and Marco looked at him skeptically.

“You don’t have cats do you?” He asked as he smirked and Jean shrugged. But still, Marco slid the white and metal clunker under the cat’s abdomen and hit another switch by squeezing his left arm against his body and it jerked against him practically crushing the creature against his skin. It hissed and clawed over Marco’s shoulder leaving red bleeding cuts up and across his chest. Marco looked up and sucked his teeth in pain as Jean busted out laughing.

“You son of a bitch!” Marco half yelled through his own laughter. Jean nodded as he waived his hands a bit and ran into the kitchen, grabbing a paper towel. He pressed it against the cuts and smirked. “You’re a real asshole Jean, you know that?” He said looking up at this strange genius in his house. Jean looked back, inches away and cheeks red from laughter.

“Yep. Totally aware of that fact.” He said as they looked at each other, once again for just a second too long. That’s when the door opened and Jean turned to it with the bloodied paper towel in his hand to see a teenage girl with grocery bags and a confused expression.

“Who are you…? How did you get in?” She asked her eyes flickered from Marco, to Jean to the blood and to the camera. “And why is my brother shirtless and bleeding?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean gets a taste of Marco's other side.

Jean didn’t really know how he found time for Marco. 

He woke up and went into work at seven in the morning and it grew to be that he went home and obsessed over the digital renderings and blueprints for the limbs. Literally Jean was up until midnight every night that passing week configuring this stuff. The first fitting didn’t go to well, cat scratches and Mina being very over protective aside. Functionality, mobility, comfort…. It was a bust. Marco seemed pretty happy with it, despite him not really commenting on it much. The schematics weren’t the only things Jean couldn’t get out of his head…

It was always apparent to Jean that he was gay. It just always wasn’t apparent to other people. Jean was brash, cocky at times and talkative in a gruff kind of way. People always acted a bit shocked when they found out he was proudly, openly and avidly homosexual. Everyone liked to imagine gay guys as these feminine flaming figures but gays came in all shapes and shades of the rainbow. Sarcasm and middle finger salutes were much more Jean’s style. He didn’t find anything wrong with lady like men, he just wasn’t the type to act a certain way to please people. He skated, smoked both cigarettes and Mary Jane, drank beer and wasn't scared to get into a scuffle. A motto of his was “Fuck your standards!” 

Turns out, from what he could gather, Marco was the opposite, and had been the king of people pleasers before he got shipped off. A patriot, idealist and straight A student before enlisting the guy didn’t even have a parking ticket. Jean hadn’t been able to get much out of him, but framed pictures and honor roll certificates in his apartment told him plenty. Trophies from soccer, swimming, lacrosse and debate told him even more. Mina on the other hand seemed pretty average. Of course it’s hard to excel when you were caretaker to a dying mother and handicapped brother. 

She was bold and snarky, not second guessing herself to interrogate Jean. It was a bit of a pain and slightly embarrassing, but in some odd way it made her so much more respectable. A protective little sister seems a bit like a contradiction but the girl made sure the program was legit. She asked if it was safe, asked Marco if he was okay with it and even asked Jean to email her websites and information. It was odd seeing an eighteen year old kid so on top of things and in charge. Once she warmed up it was clear while she lacked the Bodt freckles, she had inherited the apparent golden sense of humor. 

It was hard to focus on the plans for the new hydroelectricity production units while Jean had all of this rattling around in his brain. Especially since Armin had gave him the tenth degree after watching the fitting video. First he was called harsh for how he handled Marco, then Armin did a three sixty and was very curious about how Jean felt about not only the program but Marco. He said the video made him curious about Marco. Jean could understand that. He himself was kind of enraptured by the mess of a man. Jean found himself sitting at his desk and brainstorming how to make these fittings more effective. If they could do them in lab at the university they could vacuum form around Marco’s body to mold a fit from there. Could he get Marco there? That would work well because the actual printing only took about an hour so if any adjustments needed made they could have some wiggle room to rework things. Tapping his pen on his desk Jean let his eyes scan the office floor. 

He could totally get away with making a phone call. 

He pulled out his phone and pulled up the pictures of Marco’s file. Sure enough, a cell number was listed. Jean committed it to his memory and dialed before holding his breath for a second and blinking a bit long as his eyelids stayed closed with concentration as he devoted to the act. Something the spikey haired boy hadn’t realized was that if you have to stop and think  “Nah, I am not into them…” and make yourself believe it, then it’s too late. Jean fell into the trap of justification; j ust a friend, he’s not gay, I’m just worried, he’s handicapped for Christ’s sake  and  just stop it all flooded through his head seemingly at once. It seemed as if each resounding ring pushed concerns or even care for them further back. It just felt so right to reach out to him that his mind had no room for second guesses or self-criticism. 

“Who is this?” He heard Marco’s voice chime.

“Well aren’t you as pleasant as ever you old cat lady…” Jean chimed as he hunkered down a bit in his cubicle. 

“Jean? The science guy?” Marco sounded legitimately surprised. Jean smirked into the phone as he kicked his chair into a small spin.

“The one and only rival to Mr. Nye himself.” He said and a silence cracked on the other end for a few seconds before he heard that light, breathy laugh of Marco’s.

“I haven’t seen that show since I was in school!” It was like some pressure had been building up during the passing days without hearing the freckled boy’s voice. Now it was releasing and Jean felt worry and maybe even stress slide out of his body as he relaxed into his seat, melting into cheap cushioned fake leather as he smiled so softly and tenderly that he blushed even though no one was looking.

“I might or might not own the DVD sets. Anyway, I was wondering if…” Jean tapped his fingers on the arm rest, wondering how to phrase the question. “You wanted to see my lab and let me take some molds of you for better fitting stuff.” 

There is a cold silence when you push someone too far or piss them off that just happens and you instantly know that you have fucked up. Jean pressed his eyes closed against the silence and sighed. Should he back pedal? Offer to forget the whole thing? Of course Jean had fucked this up. 

“I haven’t left the house in fifteen months.” He heard Marco say flatly. Jean’s breath snatched its way back into his chest as his eyes widened. 

“You have got to be fucking with me dude...” Jean said sharply and he heard that dark, dry half chuckle of Marco’s as a reply. 

“You try moving a wheel chair down three flights of stairs then hauling my big ass down it too and see if you want to do it again anytime soon. Especially when you’re a hundred and sixty pound teenage girl.” Jean felt some squeeze of sympathy in his chest as he stood up. 

Autopilot filled him as he logged off of his computer and walked past the other cubicles and straight to his boss’s office. Marco was silent, probably wallowing in self-hate and self-pity like he had been for fifteen months. There sitting behind the desk was Zoe Hanji and Jean didn’t even take the phone from his ear as he spoke. “Dr. Hanji, I have an emergency. I will finish the plans this weekend on my home PC. Can I leave? It’s urgent.” The woman raised her eyebrow as she took in the look on his face. 

Marco piped up. “What? Who is Hanji? Do you have to go?” Jean ignored it as he stared his boss in the eyes. 

“Fine but it better be perfect.” She said with a glint of doubt in her face and Jean shot her a thumbs up as he sped to the elevator. 

“Get dressed buddy, I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” Jean said and he heard Marco breathe sharply.

“What? Did….” He heard a wet sound like Marco was gapping his mouth open and shut in shock or like some fish out of water. “Did you just ditch work for me?” 

“No friend of mine is spending fifteen months and one day locked up in his house.” Jean was getting in the elevator and pressing the button for the ground floor and he felt his heart hammer a bit. This was crazy. He had never in his life dropped everything for someone. “You’re not Rapunzel, even if your hair is longer than mine. So I’m dragging your ass out of that tower.”

“You are one crazy piece of work Jean.” Marco said with a voice that was soaked in disbelief. “I have no idea…” Marco’s voice trailed for long enough so that he could breathe in and out slowly like a frustrated parent. “Why you are going through all of this trouble for me…?” 

That was a good question. Why was Jean doing this? He hadn’t known Marco since diaper days like he had Eren. They weren’t the closest of friends like Armin or Connie. Jean had no real attachment to the man. If reasons were dollars his ‘why this is okay’ wallet would be empty. It was crazy, it made not a single lick of sense and it might have even been pushy and inappropriate but Jean didn’t give half a damn. He needed a reason, something to tell the man. All Jean could come up with was “Well you’re awesome and that’s reason enough for me.” 

“I’m not awesome.” Marco said darkly and Jean could hear the smoky tone his voice took on that was deeper and maybe even raspy. It was like Marco was divided up in half; one side being this golden sense of humor and wit, the other pessimism and loathing. Jean could relate to that a little bit. Jean also knew that there was no making him not hate himself.

“Well you have a right to your opinion of yourself…” Jean began and chuckled a bit as he walked out onto the sidewalk. “But you’re wrong.” He usually hated talking on the phone but he couldn’t make himself stop. “Should you tell Mina?” he asked realizing that might be a good idea.

“Not a chance.” Marco said immediately. “She’d want to come and ask fifty million questions.” 

“So I’m sneaking you out?” Jean said smirking against the phone as he practically jogged down the stairs to the subway sliding in between other people with the ease of someone who has lived in the city for years.

“Unless smuggling out limbless boys in broad daylight isn’t your thing…” Marco said with that dark rasp and Jean stopped walking so suddenly his shoes squeaked on the tile. Was Marco flirting with him? That was quite a saucy little thing to say. Jean felt his eyebrows pull closer as he pursed his lips. That tone usually meant Marco was hating himself, that he was attempting to push Jean away….

“Well unluckily for Mina, it is very much my thing…” Jean countered out of some sick and witty need to retort. The statement rang true on more than one level. It was unlucky for Mina and maybe even Marco that boys in general, limbs and time of day aside, were Jean’s thing. Jean blinked as he tried to move his mind on. He had to have taken that the wrong way, Marco was for sure not flirting with him. 

“See you in a bit.” Marco said and Jean returned the goodbye as he hung up and stood on the platform waiting for the train. What the hell was he doing? It was ten in the morning and he was taking a train to the roughest part of the city to pick up a suicidal disabled veteran and do what? 

As quick as second guessing and confusion washed over him, it left. Replacing it was a heart bounding joy of possibilities. What could they do? Anything! Jean thought of all his favorite things to do and decided today would be a day of fun with a little lab time thrown in. He spent the whole train ride piecing it together and by the time he braved the sea of puddles and cat piss to climb the stairs to Marco’s door he had a game plan. 

Jean stood and knocked remembering the silence and cat parade of last time but was surprised to see the door open pretty soon. Also surprising him was the fact Marco was in jeans and a black button down shirt. His hair was slicked back, freshly washed and still damp. Rather than inviting Jean in Marco wheeled himself out with the press of a joystick. Jean felt this kind of hollow ache in his chest.

He didn’t think of Marco as so…obviously disabled. The Marco in his mind didn’t seem so broken. Jean had almost forgotten how overwhelmingly wrong the man’s body looked with half of the clothes falling flat over nothingness. It was almost like all the excitement for the moment that had built up fizzled. Jean didn’t realize he was holding some kind of hope for this moment, for possibilities, until he felt the emptiness of that hope being crushed. 

“Don’t look at me like that.” Marco snapped without a hello or anything. Jean’s eyes shot back up to Marco’s singular hazel eye. It was narrowed and betrayed his anger. 

“Like what?” Jean asked innocently and Marco shook his head a bit as he looked away sucking on his teeth so that a nose that signaled a bad attitude hissed over the landing.

“Like I’m a wounded fucking animal.” He smiled this clearly sarcastic smile as he looked back up to Jean. “Just forget it.” He said as he started to wheel back to his door. Jean felt panic wash over him as he tried to force some kind of words out. 

Instead he cut the man off and placed his hands on each of the arm rests for the chair and lowered himself in Marco’s face. “You’re wounded, but you’re not an animal.” Jean said as he looked into that brown eye with flakes of gold and green swirling over it. Marco glared back at him and Jean felt guilt wash over him. He had been disappointed in Marco’s body. This was still the Marco he was just on the phone with and so excited to see. Jean just had to push past the alien feeling of looking and being around him. “Come on Princess.” Jean said with a smirk as he tried to lighten the mood. “Let’s get you out of this tower.” He could see Marco’s fog of darkness and scorn leave that freckled face.

They decided the best thing to do was to take the chair down first while Marco sat waiting on the stairs then for him to come down and off they would go. That plan was so much easier said than done. Jean was honestly expecting the motorized chair to fold or something but nope… It was just like taking a small go-cart down three flights of stairs. Not only did it weigh just under a hundred pounds, but it was awkward as hell to move around all of those tight turns that the small stairs had. By the time Jean set the chair by the mailboxes his arms were shaking. 

Still, he simply leaned against the railing and took a breath. He couldn’t let Marco know how hard that was or the eyepatch wearing guy would feel terrible. Jean breathed for a few seconds and rolled his neck in a circle as he stretched his arms out and tried to walk briskly back up the stairs as if it was the easiest thing in the world. 

He helped Marco stand on his leg and went to the boy’s blindside. He slid his arm around the back of Marco’s ribs and felt the boy’s breathing stop. Jean looked over and saw those thick scars trailing up the boy’s neck. This had to hurt his pride. Jean had seen all of those athletic trophies… Marco had been a Greek god of a guy before he got blown up. He watched as Marco swayed a bit trying to balance himself. He could stand so that was something, right? 

As Marco went to take that first step down he bent his knee and Jean felt the full weight of the man fall over his own left side. It was a lot more than Jean had anticipated. Marco leaned towards the wall and tried to catch himself but he kept going back and back, his leg now off of the ground. Jean turned, crossing over him and grabbing him in a bear hug. 

Marco growled a bit and looked down, his face red and teeth gritted. Jean shook him a bit. “Hey, Marco…” He said softly and he saw that now familiar eye turn to him. “You have got this.” Jean said as he ran his hand up and down Marco’s left side, just under his arm. Marco’s eyes got wider and he seemed a little surprised by something before he regained himself and nodded. Turns out, it worked better with Jean in front like this. Marco could lean forward and do this half hop kind of motion and take it one stair at a time. 

“You’re going great.” Jean said and looked up with his hair falling in his eyes and Marco smirked at him. Jean felt this kind velvety silence wash over them. It was comfortable, soft, and pleasurable. That’s when Marco just…stopped. He laid his face in the crook of Jean’s neck and sighed as he leaned fully against him. 

“Just take me back and go home.” Marco said and Jean shook his head before the words fully exited the other man’s mouth. 

“Not a chance! What the hell Marco?” Jean said as he tried to lean back and look the boy in the face. To his surprise Marco gripped his clothes tighter and stayed locked against him. Jean felt awkward as he stood but he lifted a hand and started rubbing a small circle over Marco’s upper back. “Don’t feel bad. You’re not a hassle or anything. Hell, your saving me my trip to the gym.” He felt Marco’s chest rise and fall as he took a deep breath and leaned back, coming face to face with the man.

“You should go find someone…” He looked at Jean and pursed his lips. “Whole… to spend time with.” Jean’s heart stopped at the possible implications of the darker boy’s words. Jean was usually the one to always have the right words or comeback but he felt like he was up against someone who always had the upper hand. Why was Jean feeling overwhelmed?

“Shut it Bodt.” Jean said as he looked the boy over up and down, mostly because he had no idea where else to look. He saw a look of something like thrill or amusement dance over Marco’s face. “I want to spend my time here. Get over yourself and just enjoy today.” 

It should have scared Jean much more than it did that Marco smiled and shrugged as he leaned just a bit closer and whispered “If you say so.” Jean had been given a pass- a way out. Turning it down had locked him into a position to where whatever happened now was fair game. It seemed a bit odd that the man with the upper hand indeed only had one hand but what Jean didn’t know was that more changed in Marco than losing half his vision and half of his body… 

Marco never got what Marco wanted. He was the type to live for others and hide all of his deep dark secrets under his mattress and deep within the same closet in which his homosexuality was stuffed. Lying in that hospital for months gave him a ton of time to think about not only how fucked up his future would be, but how he’d walked away from so many chances. He nearly died a virgin who had never done a single thing he wanted in his life. 

Now that he had the balls to take charge of his post near death experience life he was not able to do so. So when Jean waltzed in… Not only was he offering mobility and limbs… he was fucking sexy. Marco had a thing for bad boys and that filthy little mouth and pension for name calling that this science guy was wielding made Marco want to take every little chance to see what would happen. Marco had wasted so much time and he didn’t plan on letting a single opportunity slip away. 

That was the plan at least, to push whatever limits he could and to use the guy. But the way he seemed to genuinely want to help and was painfully sincere was complicating things. Seeing those grey eyes look up through his hair while he was putting all this work into making sure Marco had fun was almost too much. Marco was going and getting conflicted which was not part of his plan. Why did that spikey haired punk ass nerd have to be so warm and sweet?

They started moving again and before he knew it Marco was back in his chair and looking up at Jean. Jean was a bit confused and wondering if he was reading into things wrong. He had signed on knowing Marco had mental issues but it seemed like the man could go from all American boy to one bad Russian accent shy of a movie villain. It kept things interesting for sure, and Jean strangely wasn’t too bothered by it. 

Marco ran a hand through his long, shaggy hair and looked over to Jean with a raised eyebrow. “Where to?” He asked and Jean walked alongside the chair as they slid into daylight. Marco was thrown off by the sounds of cars and the way people’s eyes seemed to stick to him for just a bit too long. 

“First, we are getting you the best Goddamn burger of your life.” Jean said and Marco chuckled as he nodded with this ridiculously big smile and side by side they took on the pavement like a team trekking over a few blocks to some diner Jean swore would change Marco’s life. 

  


**Author's Note:**

> There you guys have it! Doctor!Eren and Doctor!Levi with little sister Mina. I know Mina and Marco aren't really siblings but the OC I had in my head was pretty much her...so I went with that! Let me know what you guys think :3 By the way this whole fic is inspired by [Placebo's Every you Every Me. ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LHHXNi_7QW8)


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